


Nine-Tenths

by riosnecktattoo



Series: Only You Show Me What Warmth Is [1]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, Rio stealing Beth's hairband, Romantic Fluff (and smut), helpfully tying her hair back with it cause he's a helpful guy, post-S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riosnecktattoo/pseuds/riosnecktattoo
Summary: Rio steals one of Beth's hairbands - wearing it on his wrist with the rest of his bracelets - and is unwilling to part with it. He helpfully ties her hair back for her at random iNtErVaLs. (they are fluffy, romantic and horny)
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: Only You Show Me What Warmth Is [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982956
Comments: 60
Kudos: 252





	Nine-Tenths

**Author's Note:**

> A [Teach Me Tonight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24404371) sequal series!
> 
> It's not super necessary to have read it before this series but yes, it's a continuation of that universe :)
> 
> For the prompt: Rio taking one of Beth's scrunchies (hair ties) and wearing it around. Adding it to his collection of bracelets.

Beth sweeps her tangled hair behind her ears, stooping to pull her jeans up her thighs, bouncing side-to-side a little, tugging them over her hips, her bare feet making little thudding noses on the hardwood floors of Rio’s apartment as she hops about.

She stops immediately when she sees him roll on to his back with a deep sigh, worried that she’s woken him, not wanting to disturb him just yet after how tired he had been last night.

Not too tired to undress her rapidly as soon as he’d found her waiting for him in his bed, crawling down her body like it was all that had been getting him through the day. The promise of it. This. Her. His hot, eager mouth between her thighs for what felt like hours as he devoured her, having to smack his head away when her legs started shaking, all her senses overwhelmed, unable to form words. His gruff, contented laugh against her collarbone the last thing she remembers before both of them let exhaustion take them, collapsing together in to a deep sleep.

But she’s got to open Boland Bubbles this morning, and she’s trying to get dressed as quietly as possible before she leaves, knowing she’ll have to wake him before she does.

He’s made it clear he doesn’t like it when he wakes up to find her gone.

His eyes are still closed, face peaceful, and she stops a second to stare at him. The soft early morning light filtering in through the window, hitting the tips of his thick eyelashes. His left arm stretched out, fingers stroking over the spot where she should be, searching for her body in his sleep. 

She resumes dressing and gathering her things, buttoning her shirt, putting her phone back in her purse, leaving her heels off but collecting them so they’re ready to slip on.

Gently sitting on the edge of the bed, she scans the side-table for the hairband she _knows_ she had with her last night. Hadn’t she put it with her phone? No. She’s sure she had it in her hair, tied up in a low ponytail before Rio tugged it loose.

It’s her favourite one. The dark purple tie that doesn’t slowly fall out or snag, still stretchy unlike the old frayed backups in the bottom of her bag that were basically unusable.

She just liked it. Liked the violet colour against her blonde hair. And now, running her fingers through it, catching on knots, she would really like to use it to tie it back before she heads off, but she can’t see it anywhere.

Beth stares at the whirlpool of the charcoal grey duvet and bed sheet that had gotten wrapped around Rio’s waist and spindly legs during the night. His tendency to toss and turn and steal the covers plainly evident and she briefly considers taking a picture so she has evidence next time he denies that he does that.

 _It’s in there somewhere_ , she knows it. But she’s not about to start shoving him about for a hairband.

She decides to leave it, to text him later when he’s fully awake and ask him to keep an eye out for it, smoothing her hair down as best she can as she shuffles up the bed, leaning closer in to Rio.

She lays a hand on his bare chest, stroking his warm skin gently, not wanting to startle him.

“Rio,” she whispers but he doesn’t budge, just furrows his brow and hums, “Rio, hey,” she shakes him a little more firmly, “I’ve gotta go to work now, okay.”

He rolls his head to face her, eyes opening blearily, his right hand coming up on instinct to cover hers on his chest, holding her there.

“Morning,” she smiles down at him, watching as he takes her in warmly, eyes still hazy from sleep, a drowsy smirk forming on his full lips, arching his lean torso off the bed slightly to ease out the knots he gets when he sleeps on his side curled up behind her – and this might be one of her favourite things. How he looks when he wakes up. “I gotta go.”

Rio grunts and grips on to her hand tighter. “Nuh uh.” he grumbles, his left hand lifting up to tickle over her waist, “Come back to bed, ma.”

He nudges her so she nearly falls on top of him but she resists. “I can’t, I don’t have time.”

“You got time to stare at me while I sleep though?” he arches a brow at her playfully while Beth rolls her eyes, and he uses the momentary distraction to nudge her off balance so she collapses forward against his chest.

“C’mere.” He growls, dragging her up his body and she squeaks, laughing in spite of herself as he tightens his arms around her, fingers moving to trace the spot he knows is ticklish on her thigh. She lifts her head so her face is hovering just above his smug one. “I’m not kidding, okay. I’ve got deliveries coming, I can’t be late.”

“Nah, you can be a lil’ late.” He lifts his head up from the pillow and closes the gap between their lips, kissing her languidly, biting at her lower lip with a soft moan in the back of his throat, pulling back slightly to purr against her mouth a painfully seductive _come back to bed, baby_ before kissing her again with more hunger, a familiar craving in the press of his fingers, rocking his hips up gently in to her so she can feel him.

That has her shivering, going limp in his arms, resting her weight on him fully instead of pushing away, kissing him back with urgency.

It’s when she feels him smile against her lips, smile like he’s _won,_ that she shakes herself out of it, lifting her head up sharply with a frustrated grunt, his dark eyes glowing beneath her devilishly.

“That’s not fair.” She huffs as she pushes up from him.

“Neither’s this -” His eyeline drops down to her chest and she follows as he lifts a hand to tug at where her dark blue shirt is gaping open over her bra, the button right at the center of her chest that was always stretched a little precariously having popped out. It must’ve slid open when she fell on to him and it’s open enough for the swell of her breasts over the blush pink lace of her bra to be right in front of his face.

She bats his hand away where his fingertips had started to lightly trace the soft skin, sitting up straight as he chuckles, watching her button it back up.

“Right. That’s it. I’m going.”

“Yeah, you said that already. Real eager to move those spas today, huh?” he mumbles through a yawn.

His left hand has dropped to tangle with hers and when she stands abruptly his arm lifts with her, not letting go, stroking his fingers over her wrist.

“Well, I’d just hate to upset my boss.” She flutters her eyelashes as she peers down at him still flat on his back.

He’s not her boss, not really. They’re equal. Have been for a long time. But she knows he gets a kick out of it when she calls him that, eyes sparkling suddenly in that lewd way of his.

His eyebrows pop up, amused. “You’re upsettin’ him _now_.” He tugs on the tips of her fingers. “Bed.” He commands, voice still deliciously rough.

“You’re not my boss when we’re in bed.”

“Baby, we both know that ain’t true.”

And, well _sure_. She walked in to that one.

He hums as he watches her, giving her hand a final squeeze before letting it go with an exaggerated sigh, “Alright, then. Get outta here.” He smirks, patting the side of her leg.

Beth smiles, moving away to slip her heels on and pick up her purse, sliding it over her shoulder. When she turns back his eyes are nearly closed, struggling to stay awake. She leans over him once more, a whispered “Go back to sleep.” before placing a feather light kiss against his lips that he chases on instinct, and then she straightens back up and turns to leave.

A few hours later while she’s sitting at her desk she texts him to keep an eye out for her hairband, telling him to check the sheets where she’s sure it got lost.

He tells her hasn’t seen it and then changes the topic _drastically_. And Beth’s glad nobody’s around to see how her cheeks flush.

* * * * *

It’s a few days later, while she’s getting things ready for dinner, that she rumbles him.

The house is blissfully quiet, the kids spending the weekend with Dean, and she finds herself humming along to music from the TV in the den as she stands at the kitchen island taking the last few things out of her bags after her trip to the supermarket - eggplants and tomatoes and cloves of garlic rolling on to the counter - before she moves to the cupboard, picking out herbs for the seasoning she wants to make.

She hears the front door open and close and knows it will be Rio returning from his run, turning over her shoulder to see him amble towards her, his stride a little fatigued as he sways in to each step, legs heavy, mouth hanging open as he pants.

As he approaches he reaches up behind his neck and starts pulling his thin black tee that’s sticking to the skin of his chest up and off over the back of his head, bunching it in his hands and using it to wipe the sweat off his face. He throws it over his shoulder, and he’s left in just a pair of slim black joggers that pinch precariously low on his hips, the taut skin of his stomach pressing against the waistband as he breathes in and out deeply.

“Ey, mama.” He drawls, coming over to kiss her on the temple, pressing his bare chest in to her side and laughing as she feigns disgust at how sweaty he is. He shakes his head as he opens the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water.

Beth trails her eyes down the sinewy muscle of his back when he closes the fridge door, the beads of sweat running down the bar tattoos on his biceps. Then he turns back to face her, unscrewing the cap and lifting the bottle to his lips, and her eyes glide up to the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

“My eyes are up here, y’know?” He chuckles, her gaze lifting from the eagle on his neck to his teasing face.

She clears her throat, “That’s rich coming from you.” Because, _please,_ the amount of time he spends blatantly undressing her with his eyes. It was probably the most predictable thing about him – the way his focus would fall to her chest.

Rio smiles wide, eyes crinkling at the corners as he nods, pouting his lower lip. “Aight, you got me there.”

He saunters over to her side, stroking his free hand up and down her spine out of habit, pinching the tight spot at the base of her neck and kneading it a little as he looks at the ingredients and herbs she has in front of her.

“What’s this?” he asks, pointing to the vegetables.

“That’s an eggplant.” She says bluntly.

“Hilarious,” he scoffs. “I mean what you makin’?”

“Lasagna. Nothing fancy.”

“Cool. Want me to help?”

And it’s sweet – because she does love when he tries to be her sous-chef – appreciates how he wants be involved.

But he’s ‘ _helped_ ’ before and they - well - they just never end up making the meal.

“Thank you, really, but I’ve got it covered. You head outside.”

Rio had a routine of finishing his workouts in the garden after a run. And yeah, it wasn’t the _worst_ view to have from the kitchen window.

Beth’s pouring herself a glass of bourbon, watching as he does some press-ups on the patio, the way his muscles jump and strain against his skin from effort, the tendons that lace down his forearms flexing as his arms contract and straighten with each rise and fall off his torso.

He’s mid-push up when he turns his head to the side to look at her, a faint smirk in the corner of his lips before he starts showing off. Adding a clap between each rep. Beth feels tired just looking at him.

But the fast movement draws her eyes to his hands, to the way the late afternoon sun is glinting off the ring on his pinkie finger. To the leather and string bracelets on his wrist.

To the purple hairband in between them. _Her_ purple hairband.

She narrows her eyes and she’s _sure_. Doesn’t know how she missed it earlier. The vibrant purple stark against his skin in the light.

He said he hadn’t found it though? Why hadn’t he just given it back to her?

He strolls back in to the kitchen a few moments later and Beth busies herself with mixing her herbs.

She peeks at him as he picks his water bottle back up and drinks, peeks at the band around his wrist, tucked between the ones she’s always known him to have, wearing it like it’s just another one of his bracelets.

And it’s strange, how she finds she _likes_ seeing him wear this small something of hers. She thinks about his face whenever she throws on one of his hoodies and nothing else, the possessive sound in the back of his throat.

Is this a tiny shadow of that? Because the sight of her hairband wrapped around his wrist, the purple elastic against his pulse point, a piece of her he must’ve kept with him all day, has her biting down on her lip.

“I’mma take a shower.” He interrupts her thoughts, squeezing her arm before he strolls toward her bedroom.

Beth watches him go, fixed on the swing of his hand until he’s out of sight. She pours herself another drink, swiveling so she can grab the stoneware oven dish and place it on the island ready for use, moving to wash the tomatoes, tucking her hair behind her ears as it falls loose repeatedly. Ever since she’d grown it out longer she found herself constantly flipping it over her shoulder and out the way.

She could use her hairband.

And as much as it looks nice on his wrist, she really wants it back.

She waits until she’s sure he must be out the shower - he never takes long - and gives it another few minutes, but he doesn’t re-appear. She preheats the oven and then heads for the bedroom, her bare feet padding against the floor, announcing her approach as she slips through the door.

He’s standing by the dresser, having pulled on some boxers from the draw she’d cleared out for his clothes when he was here.

He swings his chin round to look at her, eyes a little curious, a warm smile forming as she enters.

“If you were lookin’ to join me you shoulda said.” He purrs, turning his head back, picking his rings up and slipping them on to his fingers, the leather band on to his wrist, the string bracelets - and her hairband. Like it belongs there.

_What?_

Beth takes a seat on the edge of the bed behind him, eyes burning in to his back. So he was just stealing it, then? Like she wouldn’t notice?

“You’re a thief.” She states cheerfully.

Rio spins round at that, facing her front on, his confusion switching to something _else,_ something filthy as his dark eyes swoop down her body, catching on the plunge of her comfy burgundy sweater.

“Alright.” He hums, “Who you gonna be?”

She squints at him confused, trying to follow.

“Wait, what are we doing?” he smirks.

Beth flusters and rolls her eyes at him, “ _No_ , _god_ \- I wasn’t – you’re wearing my hairband.” Gesturing towards his wrist.

Rio drops his eyes to it. “Aw, yeah, would you look at that. What about it?”

“So – I asked you to check your sheets and you said you couldn’t find it?” She flails an accusing hand in his direction. “But you clearly did.”

“Uh huh.”

“And now it’s on your wrist.”

“You’re two for two.”

“Rio!” she starts to laugh, because why’s he being so difficult? “Just give it back to me.”

He sucks his bottom lip in to his mouth, biting down on a smile as he looks at her. Something deeply fond flickering across his face. “Nah, don’t think I will.”

Beth stands up from the bed, exasperated, crossing her arms under her chest, drawing his eyeline back down to her cleavage. _Predictable_. “What do you mean ‘ _nah_ ’?” lowering her voice to mimic him.

It earns her a chuckle, a gruff sound as he shrugs casually. “Means I’m keepin’ it.”

Beth shakes her head and steps closer, clasping her hands together. “Look, I don’t want to break your heart here or anything - but _honey_ , you don’t have any hair to tie back.”

Rio barks on a laugh, dropping his chin to his chest as he smiles wide, all teeth, before sliding to the side and moving away from her, like he thinks she’s gonna reach out and snatch the hairband back.

“So?” he mumbles as he walks to the end of the bed, turning on his heel to face her.

“So it’s useless you having it!” she follows, coming close to him again.

“Yeah, well, possession’s nine-tenths of the law, sweetheart.”

Beth double-takes, “Did you really just _finders-keepers_ me?”

He rubs his palm down his face, scratching the soft scruff at his jawline as he tries to smooth out how funny he’s finding all this, but there’s something else in it, something veiled and vulnerable.

“What’s the big deal?” he asks, “It’s just a hairband.”

“Exactly. So give it back.”

Rio hums, his eyes turning hazy as they drag up and down her body, settling on her face, locking with hers, boring in to her with a sudden focused heat.

“Aight, how ‘bout this. You want it?” he lifts his right hand up, showing the hairband, “You come get it.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” he murmurs, beckoning her forward with a jut of his chin.

He was being ridiculous now, but his gaze is darkly challenging, and her eyes flit from his to the band, barely a foot away from her, then straight back to his.

And he knows she’s going to play.

Beth lurches forward and grabs for his wrist, but he’s too fast, shooting his right arm up straight in to the air above his head as his left one circles around her waist, holding her tight to his chest as she falls in to him.

“Gotta be quicker than that, Elizabeth.” He purrs, craning his neck to look down at her.

“If you think I’m jumping up to reach your hand –”

Rio just smiles, eyebrows popping up his forehead in amusement.

Beth springs off her toes suddenly, using his left shoulder to push off from and gain some height, waving her right hand up desperately - but barely grazes his forearm.

It knocks them both off balance and they sway to the side. Rio drops his head so he’s nuzzling her hair, hiding his rough laughter against her ear, his hot breath fanning down her neck.

Beth can’t help but chuckle herself, placing her palms flat against his chest.

“Come on,” she pleads, “will you just give it back? It’s my favourite.”

Rio lifts his head, his face directly in front of hers, sighing deeply as he cautiously lowers his right arm so it’s also looped around her, hugging her in to him.

“I know.” He mumbles, finally losing some of the teasing in his tone.

“What?”

“Why do you think I want it?”

Beth just narrows her eyes at him, baffled. _What’s he talking about?_

“Was kinda counting on you not noticin’.” He muses.

“Me? Not noticing?” she scoffs. He knew her better than that.

“Okay, fair.”

Beth shakes her head, stroking his collarbone with the tips of her fingers. “I still don’t understand why you want it.”

Rio lifts his left hand from the small of her back, bringing it to her pale neck, running his fingers down the delicate silver chain of her necklace, the necklace _he_ gave her, tracing the three diamonds of the pendant. “You got somethin' that’s _me_ with you all the time. I wanted somethin' that’s you.”

Beth’s breath hitches, her eyelashes fluttering at the gentle touch of his fingers, reverent against her sternum, dropping slightly to tickle over the top of her breasts.

“That’s not the same.” she whispers, “Far as I’m aware you never wore this necklace before you gave it to me.”

He hums, breathing out a soft laugh, smiling as the creamy skin of her chest starts to flush pink. “You know what I mean.”

“You could’ve just asked me for it, you know. Like a normal person.”

“That did occur to me.” he nods, comically sincere.

“For like, five seconds right? Then you went straight to theft.”

He leans his forehead against hers as he nods and laughs, brushing the tip of his nose back and forth over hers a little, a content sound slipping past his lips.

It makes her heart beat fast in her chest, the thought that he wanted this piece of her, this small token that showed he was hers and she was his, even when she wasn’t by his side. The way her necklace always grounded her, took her to him in her thoughts and made her smile.

She guesses it’s how she was supposed to feel about her wedding ring, but the band she used to wear around her finger always felt heavy. Weighted with obligation. Like a cuff without a key.

But this wasn’t that, not even close. Not with Rio. It was _all_ key. It was - they were -

 _You know why_ he’d said to her not long ago. And she did. She just couldn’t speak it. Neither of them could. But did they _need_ to? She's not sure. Stumbling over the secret shared between them whenever it threatened to spill out and be named.

She trembles, feeling suddenly feverish in his arms, aware of his right hand stroking along her jaw, and when she lifts her eyes, peering up through her eyelashes, he’s got that _look_. Hypnotic. Blinking slowly as he takes her in. That dizzying affection that filters right down to her knees and unsteadies her.

She angles her lips up, an abrupt need to physicalise her feelings, show him how her makes her feel, catching his mouth with hers and bringing her hands to his throat, stroking down the dark ink of his skin.

He moans in to her, reading the want vibrating off her skin, opening his mouth as she swipes her tongue in to his, sucking on his full bottom lip. His hands drop down to her hips, pulling her hard against him so she can feel him through his boxers, as he staggers with the force of her kiss towards the edge of the bed.

When the backs of his knees hit the bed she releases his mouth, places her hands against his chest, and shoves him roughly, keeping her gaze locked on his as he sits down.

His eyes go wide as he looks up at her, “Easy, mama.” He mumbles, but the curl of his lips give away that he gets off on her acting like this, when she isn’t gentle, hands stroking the outside of her thighs encouragingly where she stands before him.

“Lie back.” She commands and his eyes go jet black as he pulls his body further on to the bed, watching her in awe as she follows, lifting one knee on to the bed, then another, caging him in, crawling up his body until she sits in his lap.

She rolls her pelvis against him, feeling how hard he is through her jeans, his eyes screwing shut as he grunts and a throbbing sensation builds low within her.

She wants him inside her, but she thinks about the other day, in his bed, how he took her to pieces with his mouth, how he said _he_ was the boss when they were in bed together, and suddenly her want to prove him wrong, to taste him on her tongue, to watch him fall apart, has her licking her lips.

Rio surges up to grab for her, but she pushes him back down. “Stay.”

He strains against her, lifting his torso up again. She shoves him back down more harshly, firm enough for the air to rush out of his lungs in surprise. Both hands pressed in to the muscle of his pecs, “I said - _stay.”_ grinding her hips languidly to punctuate her words.

He groans, a coarse sound as his desperate hands pinch in to her thighs. His eyes meet hers and he knows what she’s doing. “You got it, boss.” He rasps, delighted with the intent on her face.

She leans forward, kissing him deeply, resting her weight in to him before kissing down the sharp line of his jaw, nipping at the tender skin by his ear and down, down, slipping down his throat, his chest, kissing down the defined muscle, the faded scars, until she reaches the inviting V-shape of his pelvis.

She glances up, meeting his half-open hungry eyes as she dips her fingers in to the waistband of his boxers and drags them down his thighs, watching his cock spring free, whimpering with desire.

She brushes her loose hair over one shoulder out of the way before lightly touching him with her fingertips, circling and teasing them around the base as she leans down to nip at the hard muscle low on his stomach, enjoying how he jerks beneath her.

She starts licking and kissing closer to his cock when his left hand suddenly grips in her hair, stopping her.

When she looks up questioningly, his mouth is hanging open, jaw slack as he watches her. He releases the messy hold he has on her hair and quickly pulls the purple hairband off his wrist and on to the ends of his fingers.

He roughly gathers her hair at the nape of her neck, making her gasp with the strength in his grip, how easily he maneuvers her where he wants, pulling her hair out of her face as he begins to loop the hairband around it, tying it back for her in to a low ponytail.

Beth stares him down, both of them breathing ragged, his pupils completely blown as he snaps the band to tension, grabbing the ponytail and winding it round his right hand possessively when he’s done.

With his left hand he brushes aside a rogue strand from her bangs, “Wanna see you.” He whispers, and the sound of his husky voice, the lust in his eyes, the tight but loving rub of his fingers against her scalp makes wet, pulsing heat rush to her cunt.

She lifts her mouth and runs her tongue up the thick length of him, swirling it around the head and licking at the drops of pre-cum, lightly sucking on it as her hand strokes up towards her mouth.

He groans and curses as she takes him fully in to her mouth, bobbing her head slowly up and down, and when she sucks and moans around him she flicks her eyes up to catch him biting down hard on his lower lip, so hard she can see the red indent he leaves when he releases it to grunt a harsh _fuck_ towards the ceiling.

She increases her pace, feeling him squirm and buck his hips, the way his body starts to go rigid beneath her, and the hand on her head tightens painfully, tries to lift her off, but she moans shamelessly, eager for him to spill in to her mouth, to take all of him.

“Elizabeth – _shit -”_ he chokes, teeth bared as his cock twitches against her tongue and he comes, a hoarse moan as he makes sure he keeps his eyes open to watch as she continues to suck, as she swallows with indulgent sounds of pleasure.

She slowly slides her mouth off, his hand going limp in the ponytail wrapped up in his fist.

She brings her free hand up to her bottom lip, wiping the smears of her spit and his cum around her mouth and sucking it off the tips of her fingers while he lazily watches.

“Jesus, darlin’, you got any idea how fuckin' gorgeous you are?” He purrs, almost so bleary he sounds drunk, moving the hand from her hair around to her chin, outlining her swollen lips with his thumb, making a vibrating sound in his chest as his breathing evens out.

Beth blushes, unable to bear the adoration in his gaze, dropping her lips to his stomach as she crawls back up his body and in to his side.

He lifts his hips to pull his boxers back up and squeezes her against him, swiftly reaching up to pull her scruffy ponytail loose, slipping the purple hairband back on to his wrist with the other bracelets.

“Really?” she protests half-heartedly, lifting on to an elbow to peer at him.

“Really.” He nods slowly, immovable.

“Fine, then I get something that’s _actually_ yours.” She flutters her eyelashes down at him; pretty sure he’s still blissed out enough to agree to it.

He huffs on a laugh, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he looks up at her, waving his arm out in agreement.

“Okay, mama. _One_ thing. Whatchu want?”

Beth takes him in, unsure that she actually _does_ want anything of his. She wouldn’t wear any of his chains instead of her own necklace, and she would rather _die_ than lay claim to any of his rings and the implications that come with that, but that just leaves the other bands on his wrist.

She would never wear the thick leather one, but the thin string ones - a mix of navy blues and bottle greens - catch her eye.

She reaches out and grabs them but they bunch up together and get stuck on his wrist.

“Baby, easy. I said _one_ thing, you’re pickin' me clean.”

Beth lets go of the cluster of bracelets and watches as he lifts his own wrist and loosens the tie on a navy blue one, slipping it off and holding it out for her.

He guides it over her tiny hand, holding her in his palm as he has to pull the stings in so much tighter on her, watching his deft fingers weave a tight little bow on the underside of her wrist.

He pauses to look at her hand in his, running his thumb over the navy string, glancing at the deep purple of her hairband, a pleased tilt to his mouth.

“There.” He leans in to brush his lips against hers, “Now we’re both thieves.”

* * * * *

She’s cutting up the eggplant for dinner when he glides up behind her, gently pulling the soft waves of her hair back over her shoulders and tying it in to a ponytail again. Lifting it out of her face so she can see what she’s doing. But this time it’s done so casually, so tenderly, she doesn’t know what to say.

His large hands, comforting as they brush over her neck, softly tugging the ponytail to tension before he dips his lips to kiss her shoulder, wordlessly moving off to get their plates and fresh glasses.

After dinner, he leaves it in her hair, making no sudden attempt to take it back, insistent that she ' _chill'_ on the sofa in the den with her bourbon while he does the dishes.

She hears him stop to take a phone call, what sounds like a hushed, tense, one-sided conversation drifting to her from round the corner.

“ _Fuck_.” He bites out, and it’s a rare sound for him. That type of anger. Has her jumping up and cautiously joining him by the sink.

She can immediately see in the tense stillness of his shoulders that something’s not right.

“What’s wrong?” she slides in to his side, bringing her hand to his bicep when he doesn’t answer. “Hey,” she shakes him, and he twists his head to look at her, something cold clouding his face. “What happened?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes, turning to her and stroking down her arm in comfort. “Nothin’. Everything’s gonna be fine, but I gotta go.”

Beth nods, but before she can get any words out he’s rushing his hands up to cradle her face, bending his neck to kiss her deeply, stroking her cheeks.

“It’s all good. I promise. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Then he’s gone, and Beth fiddles anxiously with the navy string looped around her wrist.

* * * * *

He doesn’t come back. She had changed in to some comfortable sweats before distractedly watching re-runs and bad late night TV, waiting for him to update her, for him to walk through the door, but nothing.

Eventually her phone buzzes with a text from him.

_Won’t be back tonight. Back at my place. I’ll make it up to you._

Beth huffs, fluttering her bangs. And he should know by now, he _really_ should.

To be fair, he’s not remotely surprised when she shows up, using her spare set of keys for the first time.

She slips her trainers off at the door, able to make out his silhouette across the open-plan apartment, sitting up against the headboard of his bed, his hands in his lap, flexing his fingers strangely as she approaches.

She lifts the covers and slides in next to him, his left arm lifting up wordlessly to loop round and pull her in to his side.

Something’s off though, something restless and jittery coursing through him that he’s trying to smother – and it’s then she notices his knuckles.

Bloody and cracked, mostly on the right hand. Beth gasps and reaches for him on instinct. He’s fine everywhere else, it’s just his hands. A remnant of whatever awful business he’d had to take care of tonight. Something that didn’t normally touch his mood. Not like this.

He lets her softly inspect the damage, watching how gentle she is with him. When she cranes her neck to meet his eyes he must see the concern in her look. He shakes his head like _I’m fine_ , a somber smile as he strokes down the side of her face with his other hand.

He squeezes her, silently guiding her to curl against his chest and she does. Both of them sliding down further in to the bed.

It occurs to her then that they never sleep alone anymore. One of them always comes to the other, even if it’s just for the night. Just to hold each other.

_When did that happen?_

Beth softly caresses his chest, letting his easy breath soothe her.

“You want to talk about it?” she whispers.

“Nah.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Rio sighs, gripping her closer. “You’re already doin’ it.”

Then he’s lifting his right hand to her messy ponytail, gently tugging her hair loose and slipping the purple tie over his raw knuckles.

And something tense releases in him as her hairband tightens around his wrist. The restless gravity of his body suddenly settling, his heavy eyes tracing the way the elastic pinches his skin, focusing his mind there instead of the sting he must feel in his aching fingers.

Then he smiles, content, his eyes fluttering closed, rolling his head to the side to kiss her forehead.

A few moments later his breathing evens out, his stomach rising and falling gently as he drifts off. Doing something weird to her heart, knowing he’s only able to fall asleep now that she’s here.

She places her hand over his as she feels her own eyes get heavy, stroking over the veins there, gliding up to the bunch of bracelets that now include her hairband. A tiny purple flag that says _Elizabeth._

And _yeah_ , okay. Maybe he can keep it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> And big thanks to the prompter! If anyone has any cute shit or just anything they'd like to see for this series, I'm very open to further prompts. Holla at me here or on tumblr if you want! Lots of love ❤️️
> 
> Series Title From [AWOL](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAQujhxtHoA) by Kwaku Asante


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